


Becoming Petrelli

by paynesgrey



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-15
Updated: 2007-03-15
Packaged: 2017-10-19 15:17:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paynesgrey/pseuds/paynesgrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only in the witching hour can they be together. Otherwise, they're just a normal family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Becoming Petrelli

He comes home, dripping blood from his mouth and collapsing into her trembling arms. She’s worried, and her grandmother interferes, pushing Claire aside and tending to her son. She glances over to Claire and says harshly, “Leave us.” Angela is probably more worried than Claire is.

She feels slightly ashamed; Claire wishes Angela wasn’t here. Peter finally comes home, and she’s there, and _she_ has to be here. Claire hates that she feels like she’s stuck in the middle, even if she is family now.

Selfishly, she wants to be with Peter _alone_. He’s the only one who cares, and understands. Meeting her grandmother, learning of her father, losing her family – it’s all been too much for her.

She comes here because she wants to drown in his eyes again. Claire wants to see the understanding smile that chases her nightmares away.

\--

Claire frowns. Peter Petrelli is family, and she doesn’t know quite how to feel about it. She feels disturbed yet calm. At first, she remembers all the thoughts she has had about him after he saved her. She is and always will be, grateful to him. There isn’t a moment that doesn’t go by where Peter isn’t a part of her thoughts.

She would even like to say that she feels him inside her – his power tapping into hers and leaving a shadowy mark. He’s been there – he knows how everything works with just one touch. Such thoughts always make her blood scream; she feels the addiction. She wishes for more.

But what does she want? She knows deep down she once wanted him the way a man touches a woman – the way a lover looks into the eyes of his other half. She’s convinced they’ve walked different planes of existences together – spent old lifetimes with each other.

She curses her luck in this lifetime. She can only have him as an uncle.

But when he wakes up from his healing injuries, she wonders. He looks at her like a man would look at a woman – he looks at her like life begins and ends with her.

“Claire...”

Claire watches her grandmother’s expression briefly, her wise eyes tired from the tears. No doubt the woman has already told Peter that she is his niece. Curiously, he doesn’t seem shocked or disappointed.

He looks... relieved.

“Claire...” He says her name a few more times, swallowing hard. The blood is drying on his forehead with a gash that is struggling to heal. His beautiful dark hair is unkempt, sliced through his bangs unevenly. At first he looks strange, but Claire sees his eyes – and she knows that he’s still the same.

“Peter...” She puts a concerned hand lightly over his shoulder, and he relaxes. She looks at him worriedly. “What happened to you?”

“It’s Sylar... I barely escaped. Mohinder... I just got him to the hospital. I don’t know where Sylar is right now. He has the list…”

“What list?” Claire asks, not sure if she knows everything he is rambling about. She does know Sylar though; she remembers him from Homecoming and Jackie’s death.

“The list of everyone who has powers ...” Peter swallows awkwardly, his energy waning again. Her grandmother puts a comforting hand on him, indicating he shouldn’t stress himself.

“That monster is still going after everyone who has powers?” Claire asks with fear; her blood running cold.

“Yes,” Peter says with a grave expression. “We need to do something... stop him.” Peter tries to get up, but Angela gently forces him back down. He can’t go out into the battlefield in this condition.

“And we will...” Angela says sternly. “You rest, Peter. I’ll take care of it.”

“What can you do?” Claire turns to her and asks. “Do you have powers too?” Angela looks at her with a steely gaze.

“I have my ways,” she says, giving Peter one last worried look before walking away and motioning her assistant, the Haitian, to follow her into the kitchen. Claire looks back down at Peter, and he is falling asleep.

“Claire... I’m so glad you’re here...”

“Shh... just rest.”

“You’ll be here when I wake up? I’m not dreaming?” There is desperation in his dark eyes.

She traces a finger down his cheek and bites her lip, trying to keep herself from crying. She nods. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And Peter falls asleep.

\--

When Peter wakes up, he’s still weak, and he confesses that his power have somewhat diminished, exhausted just that much so he could escape Sylar. Angela has told him that he should rest even more, and already she has ordered her sources to watch for Sylar.

Claire doesn’t know what Angela’s connections are, but she hopes that whatever is going on, they’ll find Sylar before anyone else gets hurt. Peter is still adamant that once he gets better he’d look for him again.

Until then, he stays at home. Even Nathan has stopped by to see him, worried and elated for his brother’s return.

Claire watches as Nathan scoops up his younger brother in a tight, troubled embrace. He shuts his eyes tightly, rubbing his cheek against Peter’s. Claire stares in fascination as Nathan reluctantly lets go of Peter and with concern, looking deeply into his eyes. He bends in slowly and places a light kiss on Peter’s forehead.

“Thank God you’re home now, Pete. I’ve been worried sick,” Nathan says, and he only takes a momentary glance at Claire’s presence. His main concern here and now is Peter and Peter alone.

“I’m fine,” Peter says smiling gently, and Nathan runs his fingers through Peter’s uneven hair. Caught in the moment, Nathan rubs Peter’s arm, continuing to stare at him lovingly. Claire doesn’t know what to make of the interaction, only that the brothers seem extremely close. She feels almost jealous of Nathan’s attentions to Peter, and she knows that it’s silly to think in such a way.

She walks back into another room, leaving Peter and Nathan alone and giving her a chance to think. Before she knows it Angela has knocked on her door and the others are waiting behind her.

She’s moving the Petrelli family to her house where everyone will stay under her care. For now.

\--

Claire’s first dinner with all the Petrellis is something she will never forget. The mood is hushed, tense and brimming with shadowed secrets. Angela Petrelli is the least talkative of them all, but she watches them all evenly, reading them and defining them in her own ways. Peter watches her from time to time, but mostly his mind shifts into a daze, and Claire catches him daydreaming, biting his lip in anxiety. Angela has to tap him in the arm to get him to eat, since he is too distracted to even do that.

Nathan is the one that stares at her the most, fascinated and engrossed by her. Before dinner he had pulled her aside into his father’s old study to speak to her. The room’s energy accosts her senses, pulsing with old spirits and chilled with ancient sin. Her only sense of peace is staring into Nathan’s entranced eyes.

He was going to let her go at first; she knows that. He doesn’t want to because he really loves her, and she stirs feelings within him he doesn’t have the capability to express.

Instead, he hugs her longingly, trying to fill in the empty time that has fallen between them. He kisses the top of her head, just as he did with Peter. His touch lingers on her skin momentarily, and as he finally ushers her out, his scent lingers in her nose.

Is this the beginning of her welcome into the family? As she gazes at the old ancestral portraits that loom in the hallways, she trembles and wonders if she can ever feel like she’s home.

\--

After dinner, Angela has some things to discuss with Peter and Nathan. Claire’s not allowed in the discussion. Angela smiles and hugs her before she sends her off. With a kiss to both cheeks, her grandmother says that she’s just trying to protect Claire, just like she always has.

Claire goes to her room and brings out her book on manatees. It reminds her of her first home, of her father with glasses, and she starts to weep. She puts the book away and studies the room Angela gives her. The room is set up for grandchildren, with prints on the wall of smiling children and pets running in the sunlight. The walls are pastel green, and the dressers are adorned with music boxes and lace doilies. Claire caresses the top of a music box and lifts the lid. A dancer and her partner spring up, and she turns the key, letting the wound up melody filter into her ears. Her eyes wander over the stark white curtains, and she realizes the room virtually evokes pure innocence, yet she wonders why it feels so stained.

With nothing left to do, she gets ready for bed. She closes the curtains, and brings out her pajamas. She lifts up her top and puts on a long white silk gown that Angela has given her. As she slips her bottoms off, she hears a creak in the floorboard outside her bedroom door.

She pales, and the footsteps move away. Claire settles into bed, staring at the pristine white door, wondering if anyone will come through.

\--

  
Claire wakes in the middle of the night. She groans inwardly, chiding herself for falling asleep too early. She looks at the digital clock on the nightstand and reads a half past eleven.

She stands up and feels the cold hardwood floor against her bare soles. Hesitantly, she opens her bedroom door and looks down the halls for any sign of movement. Her stomach growls, and she tip toes toward the kitchen, hoping to grab a glass of milk.

When she comes back, she looks over to her grandmother’s bedroom and realizes the light is still on.

‘She must be reading,’ Claire muses, and she heads back down to her room. She stops suddenly when she hears noises coming from one of the other rooms.

At first she can’t make the noise out, but curiosity gets the better of her, so she creeps over to the door. Listening closely, she keeps her body completely still as she takes in the sounds. Her eyes widen when she realizes just what those sounds are.

She can hear Peter moaning, breathing hard and rambling incoherent words. All Claire can catch is “Nathan” over and over again, and she knows the name is said with love, with lust, and with pure need. The bed creaks, and the secondary voice inside grunts and groans wildly, the sounds of bliss moving in a heated rhythm.

Claire places her hand over her mouth in surprise, stunned and unable to move. Peter and Nathan’s noises continue to filter throughout her ears, soaking into her brain. Lightly she steps away, horrified and unsure what to think. Automatically, she heads straight to the bathroom down the hall, and even though she is away from their door, the sounds still linger inside her mind.

She feels her stomach retching, and Claire doubles over the toilet and lets out the contents of her wonderful Petrelli dinner.

She’s disgusted, and she realizes she’s not sick from the act, from the wrongness or the surprise.

She’s disgusted because Peter’s moans are the most wonderful thing she’s ever heard. Mostly, she’s disgusted with herself and her stupid, strange feelings.

How can she ever look at him again after hearing what she heard tonight? And why does she want his moans to be only for her?

Claire wipes the spittle off her mouth and leaves the bathroom back to her room. She errantly notices that the light is still on her grandmother’s room.

\--  
The next morning, Claire begs her grandmother to give her something to do. She can’t look at her books from Odessa; the memories are too painful. Claire knows her grandmother has housekeepers, but she volunteers for chores anyway.

She just needs something to engross her – anything to get the sounds of last night out of her head.

“Alright, I suppose you can help me polish the silver. I was going to do that tonight but if you need something to do.” Angela looks at her curiously, and then her small smile disappears. She looks away. “I don’t usually like the help touching the silver, so I do it myself. You can do it, if you like.”

Claire nods, relieved to be given something to do – especially something that evokes Angela’s trust.

Angela adds, “Oh, and Claire, I made arrangements with you to meet my hairdresser. We’re going to fix your hair.”

“Fix my hair?” Claire asks, twirling a tendril of blonde hair on her finger and then inspecting it. She didn’t see any split ends.

“Yes,” Angela says, giving her a hard look. “Since we’re hiding you from dangerous people, I think it’s wise to alter your appearance a bit to disguise you. On Thursday we’re going to color your hair.” Angela gives her a sweet smile that Claire knows isn’t fake. Her grandmother actually cares. “In the end, you’ll start to look more like a Petrelli.”

Angela Petrelli says nothing more about it and leaves Claire with the silver, instructing her on what to do. Claire’s mind is abuzz at Angela’s words, and she can’t help but think of how she will look with dark hair.

And as easily as her blonde hair can be turned brown, she wonders if this is just the next step of washing away the remnants of her old identity, snuffing out the blonde traits from her estranged mother, and finally further assimilating her into the Petrelli clan.

\--

  
When Peter finds her, she’s in the dining room polishing a candelabrum. She’s focusing so hard she doesn’t even hear his light footsteps.

“Claire...” His smooth voice jars her, stirring up memories of the night before. She can’t bring herself to look at him, so she continues polishing in silence.

He puts a hand on her shoulder, and she can’t take it anymore.

“I heard you… and Nathan last night,” she chokes out, and she half expects him to pull his hand away. Instead, he squeezes her shoulder and sighs.

“Claire, there’s some things you should know about my family… things you might not understand.”

She turns around and gives him a scrutinizing look. She whispers in a hiss, “Are you sleeping with your own brother?”

He makes no motion to answer her, but the look in his eyes does enough. Claire sighs heavily. She looks to the floor, not wanting to see the resolution in his eyes. He doesn’t think he’s doing anything wrong! “How long?” she asks.

“Since as long as we’ve been family.”

She should have expected such an answer, but then she admits to herself she really doesn’t understand this family, but she wants to. It’s the first place she’s rightfully belonged without lies and she wants to keep it. She wants to keep Peter.

He kneels down so he can look into her eyes. He puts a finger under her chin to direct her gaze to his. “You think it’s wrong, and I understand that.”

Claire shakes her head. “No, it’s just... I don’t understand it. I... can’t think it’s wrong, Peter...” She pauses, and he gazes at her curiously. “I can’t think that way if I’m thinking I want that ... from you too.” Claire turns away from him, and laughs nervously. “Silly, isn’t it? I’ve wanted you since you saved me, and when I come here and find out...” She groans, shaking her head. “It’s silly but I don’t even feel different. I feel the same.”

Peter says nothing, and she still can’t look at him. He moves and sits with her at the opposite side of the table. He begins helping her polish the silver.

The atmosphere is thick, and Peter and Claire say nothing to each other for a long time. Finally, Peter’s voice crashes through her thoughts and says, “Come to my room tonight before bed.” Claire’s blood freezes. She looks up hesitantly, meeting his eyes. They peer straight through her, and her heart melts. He adds, “Come for cocoa.”

“Cocoa?” Claire asks with confusion.

Peter gives her that smile that always bewitches her. “Sure. For cocoa.”

Claire nods, and she can’t help but cross her legs tighter, closing off the dampness and heat forming from her thoughts. She won’t allow herself to imagine what she could do in Peter’s room, in the same bed where his brother took him last night.

She won’t allow herself to think so just yet.

\---

  
She finds it odd yet comforting to know that Peter treats his relationship with Nathan so casually, as if nothing is wrong. Yet, despite their taboo closeness, Peter is still a good person and she still considers him a hero. He still wants to help people, care about them and treasure the way they make him feel.

Claire steps out into the hallway wearing the same nightgown as before. The halls are dark again, and Peter’s door is open, and she hears faint music coming from within. She’s drawn to the light from the hall, and she notices that the lights on both her grandmother’s and Nathan’s rooms are off. She finds that eerie that they are in bed already, but she’s relieved.

She and Peter can be alone.

Claire stops in front of his open door and pokes her head in cautiously. Peter is reading while lounging on top of the covers of his bed. She inspects him, feeling anxious as her eyes trail over his shirtless lean form and his bare feet poking out his black sweat pants. She flushes.

“Claire,” Peter smiles at her and sits up. He sets the book aside and watches her as she hovers at the door. “Come in.”

“Where’s the cocoa?” she says, hoping her staring wasn’t too obvious. She’s trying to play this as cool as he is.

Peter smiles at her lazily and with his eyes he motions her over to the edge of his bed. “I can call for some now.” He pauses and watches her as she sits next to him, putting her hands nervously in her lap. “That is if you still want cocoa.”

She turns to him almost immediately, shocked that he would seduce her so suddenly. She smirks in return. She can play this game too.

“Well, this is why I came here, isn’t it?” And almost as fast as she says the words, she’s inching closer to him on the bed. She watches his face, coming closer to her as she moves in. Peter chuckles.

“Is it?” His hand is over hers now, and her body is screaming for more of his touch. He stands up from the bed and closes the door softly. It makes a creaking noise that anyone would deem suspicious. Peter leans against the door and stares at her; Claire relaxes, leaning into his bed on her elbows.

“So...” She changes the subject. “Tell me about this ‘thing’ you have with Nathan. I don’t think I quite understand.” Her voice is low, but her expression is inviting. One of Peter’s eyebrows arches.

“Are you jealous?”

“A little.... no... maybe,” Claire answers unsure.

“Well, you shouldn’t be.”

“Why not?” Claire feels offended. “How wrong is it to feel that I want you all to myself?”

“It’s not wrong. It’s a natural feeling. But Claire, here we all belong to each other,” Peter answers her, and Claire frowns.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to belong to anyone else.” Peter comes over to her and stands in front of her, hovering over her leaning form. She looks up at him, anxious and exhilarated.

“You will, Claire,” Peter says softly. He reaches out a hand and plays with a tendril of her hair. Claire closes her eyes momentarily in contentment. Peter finally says, “You’re family now.”

“Oh, is this what it means to become a Petrelli?” She opens her eyes and the lights are out. Peter is hovering over her, leading her on her back. He climbs over her, gently distributing his weight. Claire inhales his scent deeply, and he bends down and comes close to her lips.

He whispers, “Yes, but only if you want to. You can still be family and not want this. I’ll still love you if any of this makes you uncomfortable. You see, for the longest time, it’s just been Nathan and me. No one else shares what we share; only some know, and they understand it. We all have our levels of intimacy.”

“And you and Nathan get as intimate as you possibly can?” Claire surmises. Peter smiles and nods against her.

“It’s normal for us.”

“And when you have wives or girlfriends? Do you still...?”

“Shhh...” He places his finger to her lips. She hushes, and her eyes begun to adjust to the darkness. She can still see Peter’s deep eyes.

“This time of night… is the only time we can be like this, Claire. When morning comes… we’re just family again, the way the world perceives the family, and not the way it knows it to really be.” He pauses and looks at her lovingly. “And now, it’s no longer just Nathan and me. You’re here now, Claire.”

Claire swallows uncomfortably, feeling somewhat enlightened by his revelation. Only at night they engage in such closeness, such moments of family togetherness beyond the bounds of social mores. In the shadows it’s easier to act and feel, blanketed in the nether worldly sanctuary of the witching hour. And then, as the sun rises up and shines light on the world, they’d have to be nothing more than how families should be again.

Claire finally starts to understand.

“I...I see,” she stutters as Peter kisses her forehead. Her breathing becomes rapid, and she feels his hands caress over her stomach. He’s straddling her, grinding into her and urging to push her down. Hesitantly, she reaches her hands up and cups his cheeks. He looks at her, and he can see an inviting smile.

“So this moment can just be ours? Right now?”

Peter nods and replies, “Only now. Do you really want this, Claire? Can you really be with me like this at night, and have me as an uncle during the day?”

Claire understands the ramifications. If she says yes now, he’ll love her and be inside her, again with his power and for the first time, with his touch. But in the day time, she has to give him up… she has to treat him like family and smile whenever he brings a new girl around. She has to find another man herself and live with the notion that she cannot have the man she truly wants.

But as long as she can take him at night…

“And I can have you at night; you can have me?” Claire asks.

“Yes,” he says in almost a choked whisper. Claire feels him harden against her.

So she reaches up and grabs his face. His lips are inches from hers and then she says, “Then I want this. Please, Peter, I’ve wanted you like this for so long. I need you.” And if he doesn’t take her now, she knows she just may cry.

And then suddenly he’s on her, pushing her back and fumbling with her nightgown, searching for flesh.

He moves over here, bringing the material over her body and then over her head. He muses, “This nightgown used to belong to my mother. It looks good on you.” When he gets it off, he smiles down at Claire’s naked form and says, “But you’re better without it.”

Claire giggles playfully, and tugs at the elastic of his pants. “No fair,” she squeaks with a pout. “I’m the only one naked.”

Peter stares at her in fascination, and she catches a glimpse of that crooked smile once again. “That can change,” Peter says in turn. He bends down and starts kissing her neck, wiggling his pants off as she helps him. He breathes heavily against her skin and whispers wantonly, “God, Claire, I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“So you’re not angry that we’re related...are you even sad?”

“No,” he answers immediately. He looks down at her possessively. “I can have you any time I want. And now, you’re family so you’ll always be here.”

“Anytime you want, huh?” Claire teases him and traces a finger lightly over his nipples. They harden to her touch.

“Yes… if you’ll have me. I’d never force you, Claire,” he says soothingly. He is still kind, even amidst the dysfunction. Claire laughs lightly.

“You’d never have to,” Claire says, and he kisses her deeply, and she feels him tugging on her powers. Her head feels light.

“Ooh... I didn’t know you could do that...” she replies lazily.

“It’s fun coming from a powerful family.” And with power Claire knows he means their abilities, and she couldn’t help but agree.

“We’ll have to do more with that power and with mine,” Claire muses, kissing his lips between words. Peter chuckles against her skin. He dips his head down and sucks on her hardening nipple, earning an appreciative gasp. His other hand snakes down between her legs, and he rubs his fingers against the wetness.

“God, you’re so wet. I did all this to you?” His voice sounds almost stunned yet enamored to her response. “Please tell me this isn’t your first time... I don’t want to…”

She stops kissing his neck, and then looks into his eyes. “You’re not going to hurt me, Peter. I want this.”

“I...” Peter knew this was her first time. He was taking it, and he wondered if it was right. “Shouldn’t someone else have your first time?”

“Nathan was your first time, wasn’t he?” she asks, and Peter nods once. “Then it’s okay. I want you, Peter. I only want you.”

“Claire...God,” he says, moving his head to the crook of her neck. He nuzzles his nose against her hair. He inhales her youthful scent, and then he says, “We can’t go back, Claire. I’m too... deep with you.”

She runs her hand through his dark hair and says resolutely, “I know... so am I.”

And the witching hour becomes theirs.

Peter dips his fingers inside her, playing, caressing and pumping into her. Claire moans in his ear with soft, husky sounds. He knows he can’t break her, but sometimes he wonders by the way she cries against him. Her lips engulf his mouth again, delving and tasting his flavor – a flavor that she would come to love and possess over time.

He grinds his body against hers, and she cries heatedly underneath him, begging for more, aching for his closeness. He rubs his hardening cock against her sensitive thighs, and he grunts in her ear, still jamming his finger rhythmically inside her. Her moans are guttural now, loud as she breaks from his mouth. He tries to silence her with his kiss, hoping not to disturb anyone else but knowing full well everyone knows what they’re doing anyway.

It doesn’t matter anymore. Claire is family, and she wants this as much as he does.

“Peter, please,” she begs, and her wet sex coats his hands. He pulls his fingers out gently, and looks up at her for confirmation. Her face is flushed, and her chest is heaving madly against him. She looks at him with desperation, her hair wild and unbridled in her passion.

Slowly, he moves his cock inside her, reveling in the feeling of her heat consuming him. He moans as he feels her automatically moving her hips to push him inside. He feels her barrier, and stops, and she looks at him again with resolution.

“You can’t hurt me,” she whispers. And in one full charge, he pierces her, and she clenches her teeth as she feels the pinch. Her powers are already healing her, lulling the pain as he Peter starts to move inside her rapidly. Peter’s thrusts and her healing powers resonate, and she feels a hot and cold spurts wash over her insides. She moans, as it’s a feeling she’s never felt before, and Peter grunts in her mouth again, sealing her pleasure inside him.

She’s moving her hips now at his pace, desperate for something deeper and reeling from the pinnacle point almost within her grasp. Peter releases her mouth and lets her sounds of ecstasy out into the open, and he watches in fascination as her breasts bobble with his every thrust.

‘God, she’s so hot and wet,’ he thinks to himself, and he hears a growl rise from Claire’s throat. He notices sweat slicking their bodies together. He stops momentarily, and in one swift motion, he’s sitting, and he places her over his lap, stabbing her with his hardness. She groans, and he moves again, and she grinds her hips harder and closer. Her breasts bounce in his face, and he can feel tendrils of her hair ghosting across his wet skin.

Claire groans as she’s almost there, wishing the feeling would never end. Peter is wholly inside her, releasing the barriers of his power to her and moving like hot metal through her core. She opens an eye and notices the bruises she made on his neck disappear as he absorbs more of her power, shedding away every last inhibition she has and making her completely malleable in his grasp.

“Oh!” she squeaks, and she freezes, her hips thrust down over him, taking in his every inch. He continues to move as she pauses, harder and stronger, and burning into her with one last slam.

He yells out his release, spilling into her and she slacks against his lean frame. He pants heavily in her ear, and then after a moment of just being inside one another, he releases her, and lays her down on the bed with him. She curls up against him, and smiles as aftershocks run through her body. He kisses the top of her head and continues to watch her.

“I love you, Claire,” he says, and she doesn’t expect it, but after such a night, she welcomes it and smiles.

“I love you, Peter.” She sits up and looks down over him. He places his arms behind his head, relaxing and grinning up at her. “In two days, I’ll be a full-blown Petrelli.”

Peter eyes her curiously and raises an eyebrow. “You already are a Petrelli.”

Claire shakes her head and grins, “Your mother’s getting my hair dyed, to hide me from the people who are after me.”

Peter’s smile disappears and he gives her a severe look. “I know people are after you, Claire, but they won’t get you. We’ll protect you.” He looks up at her and runs a finger across her jaw line. “I’ll protect you with my life.”

Claire puts her hand over his and cups it to her cheek. She’s never felt so secure in her life, not like this. She leaned her naked body over Peter’s again, and cuddles against him. “I know. You’re still... my hero.”

He chuckles lightly and strokes the soft skin of her bare arm. He says, “The bad thing about nights like these...”

Peter pauses and Claire looks at him puzzled. He continues, “The bad thing is you can’t stay here until morning… not like it hasn’t happened before, but it’s not a good idea.”

Claire nods, smiling anyway. She traces a circle over Peter’s abs. “It’s okay, Peter. I understand. I’ll still have you tomorrow, and tomorrow night, and the next day, right? It’s just that it’ll be different roles.”

Peter looks at her thoughtfully and nods.

“I think I’m starting to understand this.”

“Good,” Peter responds resolutely. He watches her for a moment and then asks, “I wonder though… if Nathan seeks you out… do you think you’d want to…”

Claire’s smile fades, and her face pales. She stutters, “I... I don’t know. All I’ve ever wanted is you. I know it’s a strange situation… and you’ll always go back to him too. I just don’t... I don’t know him that well.”

“He loves you, Claire,” Peter says. “You don’t have to be afraid of him.”

She gives him a sour look. “Stop pimping me out to Nathan. I just don’t know, okay? Right now… it feels strange. I know he loves me. But I...”

“Shh... it’s okay. I won’t push you. It’s your decision,” Peter says, and he leans back onto his arms again. He expects her to cuddle with him a bit more, but he sees she’s looking for her clothes.

She brings the nightgown over her head, and then looks at him sadly before she goes to the door. “I’m sorry; I should probably go.”

“Claire...” Peter wants to stop her, and he thinks that maybe mentioning Nathan to her so soon may have been a bad idea.

“No, it’s okay. I just need to think… I…” Her voice falters, and she cocks her head to him, looking at him lovingly. “I love you, Peter. Good night.”

“Claire...” he says again, and swiftly jumps off the bed and presses his naked body against her, bringing her in for a long kiss. She melts into him again, wrapping her arms around his body tightly in a desperate embrace. She doesn’t want to let him go, but nighttime is almost over – and so is their forbidden tryst.

He breaks the kiss when he senses she’s restless to get out, and he looks down at her thoughtfully once more. He kisses her forehead again, and she breaks away and leaves, smiling at him once more and not looking back as she settles back into her own room.

\--

The next morning, Claire tries to push away the emotions from the previous night as they simmer inside her. She really wants to burst out and hug Peter, taking him in the day time like she did in the night. However, she just can’t, and she needs to learn this.

In the day time, she watches Peter and Nathan. Their touches are innocent, but to Claire, they no longer feel innocent. To anyone else they would be, but through them, she can learn too. She keeps reminding herself she gets to keep Peter forever. She has to share him, but at least she can have him.

In any other family, she’s sure she wouldn’t be able to touch him like this at all. Feeling enlightened, she smiles boldly and asks her grandmother if she has anything else for her to do, or if she could borrow a book once in awhile. Her grandmother surprises her and gives her a gift.

“Oh, you’ll be happy to know your studies start up again tomorrow. I’ve hired you a private tutor. You’ll finish high school in no time, I believe, and then we can get that out of the way and focus on other things,” Angela Petrelli says. Claire notices even after last night, Angela does not look at her differently. This family was sure strange! Claire is grateful anyway.

“What other things?” Claire asks, trying to focus on the conversation.

Angela gives her a knowing look and replies simply, “Why your powers of course, and we have to figure out a way to bring you into the family. Nathan’s up for an election, so I’m afraid we can’t present you as his daughter yet.”

Claire nods, realizing the situation. Nathan is married to Heidi, after all, and to have an illegitimate child show up would damage his reputation to get into office. He’s already once tried to deny her, and now that he won’t, Claire is grateful that they’re bringing her into the family at all.

“I understand.” And her grandmother seems pleased, and she smiles at Claire and pats her hand.

“For today, you can just relax. That tutor isn’t going to be easy on you, I’ll let you know.”

Claire smiles, but she inwardly groans. She would have been satisfied with public school, but she knows that Mrs. Petrelli has to be discreet. Someone is still after Claire, and she can’t be running around publicly anyway.

“If you’d like, you can walk the grounds and get to know the home. I can have someone give you a tour.”

“Oh, I’d like that, but I think I’d like to walk around myself.”

Angela nods. “If you’ll excuse me, dear, I’m going to be meeting some people today. Peter should be around if you need anything.”

Claire nods, and she leaves to step outside to the lavish garden.

Looking around, she notices well-kept bushes and colorful blooming flowers, splattered ornately around the yard. The air is crisp with a cool breeze and warm from the late morning sun. She takes a step to walk out onto the pebble sidewalk when she hears motion to her right. Turning around, she meets Nathan’s eyes.

He’s reading the paper and enjoying an ice tea. He looks up at her and gives her a small smile. His expression is the same as it was at the dinner table a couple nights ago, entranced.

“Claire...”

“Nathan... I mean... Da...”

Nathan waves a hand in the air to stop her. His smile is still small; his eyes still drinking her in. “You don’t have to call me that. Not if you don’t want to. Besides, Ma might say it’s a bad idea.”

“Right,” she says, nodding nervously. “She said that you have an election coming up. Having me here complicates things.”

Nathan watches her silently and frowns. “Yes, it does. It’s bad for the election,” he says bluntly. There’s a twinge of harshness in his voice. Claire can see the election is a large part of his life. But the softness stays in his eyes. “It doesn’t mean you’re not family.” He stands up from the chair, but he stands and doesn’t come over to her. Claire knows he wants to, his arms itching to embrace her.

“God, Claire,” he breaks down then, the smarmy politician demeanor disappearing in her secretive presence. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“I know,” she says quickly. “Meredith didn’t know... she couldn’t have known about my power to heal.”

“Thank God for it. I never knew… if I did,” Nathan looked away, and Claire saw deep sadness in his face.

“Hey,” Claire says, she inches close to him and puts up a hand automatically. She takes it down quickly, wondering if he’d really even want her to comfort him. “It’s not your fault. And my grandma, she knew, right? She must have had a reason to keep it from you.”

Nathan looks up at her, and he sees the sincerity on her face. He bites his lip, still watching her with his intense, darkened eyes.

“Yeah, my mother has been keeping a lot from us… about our powers and what she knows.” Nathan confesses, “Don’t feel bad. We’ve all been kept in the dark about this, but not any longer.”

Claire feels more relaxed. At least, Peter and Nathan are in the same boat as she is. They all are just discovering their powers and the secrets that linger around them. “Yes, as long as I’m here, it’s going to be okay.” Nathan nods in agreement with her, and he sees her frown. “Only... I wish they would catch Sylar. I’m afraid of what he might do to other people like us. I’m afraid for you… and Peter, if he tries to come after us.”

Nathan walks slowly over to her, coming within a foot of her. Claire still thinks he urges to touch her, the gestures that run so rampant throughout their family, crossing over fine lines. And when he looks at her, she tries not to think of the things Peter said last night and what could transpire if she opens up to Nathan too.

“Sylar is only one of our problems, and from what we gather, a minor one for now. It seems that the people known as Primatech are also behind all of this… as well as some private interest groups.” Nathan arches his neck to expose flesh, and Claire gasps as she sees two black marks, the same as what Matt and that crazy Ted person had when they raided her house.

“They... did this to you too!” Claire exclaims, and she reaches out her fingers, hovering over the mark. Nathan stands still, and she traces her fingers lightly over the tainted skin. “I’m sorry...”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s not your fault. I know it was your adoptive father that was doing this, but he was doing worse things to you and your family. He was doing things to others, not just me.”

Claire drops her fingers, and Nathan seems disappointed from the lack of touch. She looks to him again and smiles weakly. “I know what you say, but I still feel responsible.”

Finally, Nathan clutches her hand and squeezes it. He stares at her sternly. “Claire, don’t.”

She doesn’t resist his touch, and she lets herself fall into his embrace. He clutches her tightly, and she feels safe yet cold to the emotions she’s experiencing. Remnants of her conversation with Peter poke into her mind again.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, but it’s for something entirely different. She breaks from his embrace, and he seems confused to her meaning. He’s ready to chide her again for apologizing, but then she says, “I want to get to know you. I always wanted to know who my real parents are. Now that I’ve found you, I really want to know all about you. At that time you rejected me, I thought my life was truly hopeless, that I had nothing left.” Tears begin to brim in her eyes. “Please, I want to get to know you. You already make me feel so welcome... so I just want to say to you...” She looks up at his stunned, heartfelt expression, and she replies, “Don’t leave me alone again.”

He hugs her again. “I won’t.” His fingers are in her hair, and she feels a soothing sensation come over her. Her mind feels muzzy, and she melts into her father’s arms.

She wants to get to know her father now more than ever, and she feels confident when he tells her he won’t leave her. She’s here now, and they won’t let her go anywhere.

She finds comfort in that, and as she touches him more and more, she rethinks about what Peter said. And the day when she gets to know Nathan fully and completely, she wonders if she can really let him take her.

Maybe it’s all the same, these levels of intimacy that Peter was telling her about.

And then she smiles as Nathan lets her go. He settles back into the patio chair, and Claire takes a seat opposite of him. She soaks in the beauty around her, enjoying a pensive moment in just the company of her long lost father.

\--

When Claire goes to visit Peter that night, she’s afraid that she might run into Nathan, or that she’s infringing upon their time. Instead, she finds Peter alone, ready for her like he was the night before.

He smiles as she comes in his room, and she looks at him demurely, while lightly shutting the door and hearing the inevitable creak —not noticing that the door doesn’t catch.

“Claire...you came again.” He gave her a teasing grin.

“I know... I’m sorry if I’m bothering you…”

“No,” Peter says, putting his book aside again. He turns the radio off, and he moves to sit up on the bed. Claire automatically sits next to him, the side of her thigh rubbing against his. Peter than adds, “I had a feeling you’d come.”

“You talk to Nathan?” Claire asks, and Peter smiles and looks away.

“Guilty. He told me about the talk you guys had,” Peter said. “Sorry, we can’t keep anything from each other. I’m sure you know that.”

“Hn,” Claire answers, not bothered. She would have told him about it anyway. “I just wanted to tell him that I wanted to get to know him. Not that I feel it’s unfair or anything. I already know a lot about you already.” She turns to him and looks into his understanding gaze. “I just want more time to get to know the father I thought was dead for so long. Nathan is an amazing man…” She smiles and leans into him. “He’s your brother after all, and I can’t tell you all the things I think of you.”

Peter wraps his arm around her and whispers, “I can guess.”

Claire grins and then gives him a challenging look. “I don’t think you can.” Her breath is hot against his cheek, and he pauses, smirking as his eyes roam over her body.

“You’re wearing that nightgown again,” he says with a pleased growl.

“It’s the only one I have,” Claire says, nuzzling her nose against his.

“We’ll have to do something about that. Tomorrow, when you get your hair done, you should ask my mother to buy you some clothes,” Peter suggests, playfully nipping her lip. Claire grins and watches his mouth.

“Why don’t _you_ buy me some clothes,” she counters huskily, and his hands are already in her gown, bringing it over her head. She blinks, and the lights are off again. He throws her on her back, looming over her. She reaches out a hand and tugs at his elastic pants. Peter’s already hard, his arousal prevalent in front of her. He shoves his pants over his lean hips, and he scoops her into his arms. He rocks against her, his arousal poking against her thighs.

She moans out his name, and he bends his head down below, licking her nether lips and soaking up her youthful taste with his tongue. She muffles a scream with her fist, and she feels his tongue, hot and frenetic against her slick walls. The tip of his tongue scrapes against her sensitive nub, and her thighs quack around his head.

“Oh yes...” she mewls, and he delves his tongue deeper into her, reaching up a hand to squeeze her breast. The noises he hears her make are erratic, erotic and ready for more.  
He leaves her, and she groans disappointment.

Smacking his lips together, he licks up the remnants of her taste, and moves to put his mouth over hers.

She can taste herself on his lips, and she moans in delight as he finally seeks her out, plunging himself once again inside her. She moves her hips automatically as he begins to thrust.

As he moves within her, Claire feels close – relishing in the rising ache and searching for that enlightened abandon. She feels restless, and as he moves within her, growling against her skin, she lets herself go. Wildly, she bucks him off her, throwing him roughly on his back and straddling him. He’s surprised by her motion, but then she hops over him, impaling herself with his hot erection. He moans as she settles harshly over him, and she begins to move her hips again, riding him. The bed creaks, and she wants it too… loudly, more loudly than it ever did for him and Nathan.

She cries out, and his fingers grasp her hips and push her up and down over him in a faster pace than she can manage herself. He fills her so hotly, burning and branding his power against her insides and sealing his ownership with one violent thrust, releasing himself inside her.

He lets out a contented sigh, and she writhes over him, grasping for her last and final moment, moaning low when she finally fulfills that ache.

Peter pants heavily, singing her name like a mantra. She can see the sweat on his forehead, illuminated by the moonlight through the window.

“Peter...” she breathes. “Love you...” And she still has him inside her. She stays like that as they recover in their post-coital bliss. Claire brushes back her hair that is sticky from sweat.

Peter smiles dumbly, and looks up at her longingly. She grins. “The night isn’t over,” she intones, and he chuckles.

“Tomorrow you’re getting your hair colored aren’t you?” Peter asks randomly. Claire nods.

“The next step in becoming a Petrelli,” she muses. Peter cocks his head to her.

“What’s the first step?” he asks, and Claire knows if he’s just teasing.

She rocks into him, his cock still half-limp inside her. He moans. “This.” She pants heavily and begins to rock again; his tired hips move with her. “This is the first step.”

“Again?” Peter asks whimsically, but he already knows the answer.

The door creaks beside them, and only Claire glances over to it. She smiles and makes eye contact briefly with the person watching them. She knows; Peter knows. Neither of them is bothered by it. She turns back to Peter and smiles.

“Again.”

THE END

  



End file.
